Of the Wicca
by PaxRoman
Summary: After his mysterious ressurection, Count Dracula allows his brides to foster a young human girl, whose role in their newly restored lives may be more significant than they expected... Kind of an alternate ending...RR is appreciated.
1. Author's Note

Hey all-  
  
I just thought I should clarify the rating, because I thought some of you might be thinking, "This story shouldn't be rated R! There's nothing going on..."  
  
While I'm debating whether or not to add some ::ahem:: heavier, if you will, material later on the story, the real reason around the rating is due to some of the themes I'll be including.  
  
For instance, one of the up-and-coming characters is going to have some pretty anti-Christian opinions and will have no problem expressing them on her part. There will probably be several references to the Devil. There will also probably be several anti-God references.  
  
These are not meant to offend anybody! I'm merely trying to give this specific group of characters a bit more depth. These also do not reflect my own beliefs. While I, myself, do not personally believe in or deny the existence of any "greater being" or "defined fate" [meaning I'm an atheist], this does not mean I'm trying to convert and change anyone or their morals.   
  
I think everyone has the right to believe what he or she wants to, and I think everyone should try to see that.   
  
Once again, please do not find this story as a slander on your personal opinions. If you find it as such, you have the freedom to not continue. Please don't flame me.  
  
Have a good today, and a lovely tomorrow!  
  
Your's Sincerely,  
  
Pax 


	2. Prologue

Transylvania, November 2, 1888, Dusk

Castle Dracula was empty. For the first time in many a century, no creature stirred in it's cold, vacant halls. No one worked in the laboratory; the nursery was bare. So naturally, no one heard the great wooden doors creak as they opened, admitting a shivering black-cloaked figure into the fortress.

It stood for a moment, it's labored breathing echoing in the silence, then slumped against a nearby wall, catching it's breath.

Minutes past.

At last, it clamored back onto it's feet and proceeded down the entrance hall, pausing now and then to peer down corridors and into rooms. But it again stopped in front of the laboratory. Then, with quickening steps, entered.

On the floor lay the tattered ruins of years dedicated work. The machine meant to continue the Dracula line was destroyed, in pieces on the stone floor. The bodies of dead Servants were littered amongst the shards of metal and loose wires. A steady dripping of old rain water from the roof echoed through the vast chamber. None of this, however, was what interested the figure.

An hour past, in which all of the wreckage was thoroughly perused. And, at last what was sought was found.

The black cloak brushed the stone floor as it's wearer crouched over a pile of dark ashes. To anyone else, they would have probably meant nothing and would be easily overlooked. But to the figure, they meant everything.

The soft hiss of a knife being drawn sounded as a small, but deathly sharp dagger was pulled from it's sheath on the figure's hip. The cloak fluttered back slightly and a pale hand was revealed. There was a moments pause, and then the steel was pressed to the thin wrist and jerked down.

It took only a matter of seconds for a stream of warm, red blood to begin flowing from the wound. It trickled down over the white skin, then dripped onto the heap of ashes.

The instant it was touched by the blood, the pile began to hiss and bubble. In a flash, the figure was on it's feet once again, and hastening for the exit. Again, it tugged on the enormous doors and eventually forced one ajar.

With a single foot outside in the bitter cold, the figure paused and turned it's head. For from inside the castle, a sound could be heard; a pair of slow-moving, lethargic footsteps. A smile crossed the figure's face, it's grey eyes dancing.

Van Helsing had conquered Dracula. But she had undone his damage, through his one fatal error. Had he deposed of the ashes, nothing could have brought the demon back. Had Van Helsing left the remains of Dracula in the sun, he would have been gone forever.

But he hadn't.

And now, Dracula was revived.


	3. Resurrection

_**Transylvania, November 5, 1888**_

He had been dead. The accursed mortal had killed him. Gabriel, God's lap-pet. How he loathed the man. The very suggestion of his name made him twitch...

Yet, now he lived.

The very essence of the situation did not make sense. He had felt his soul ripped from his body. The feeling had been familiar, for it had, of course, happened once before. Time had past, although he knew not how long or how short of a span it had been. And now, he lived once again.

One cold hand massaged the tired brow. Three days had now past in which no answer had come. It was exhausting and utterly vexatious. Indeed the castle was very much the same as it had always been, though with the obvious exclusion of the Dwergi and the machinery they had tended.

Except for the smell.

It had been obvious to all that entered the fortress. A human had been in Castle Dracula. Not Gabriel and the Valerious woman. Not even the ridiculous monk. Another human.

With a soft hiss of frustration, Dracula rose from his hearth chair and left the room. The main corridor was empty, as was usual, and as nothing particularly caught his interest, he continued on.

The walk did his mind good. But he knew he would have to feed tonight. Indeed it had been two full nights since he had drank; besides the night of his resurrection, he had had nothing.

As he entered a new chamber, he knew at once this one was occupied. And those in it knew at once of his presence. Two of them, garbed in their trailing gowns and jewels, both leaping from

their perches in the rafters. Both at once at his side.

"My love," Aleera cooed, running her hand over his face and down the pale neck "You look parched! You must come with us now and feed!"

"She speaks truly, my dearest!" It was Verona who spoke now, examining his face with concern "We shall go now! Come."

He allowed the two of them to pull him, by the hands, to the nearby balcony. The three leapt off, and flew into the crisp, night air.

They were another factor that brought him confusion. Why were they, too, still living? All three of his brides had been murdered. Yet, now, Aleera and Verona, like himself, were very much alive. Not Marishka. She had somehow been excluded from the loophole the trio had found after death.

A young man stood on the outskirts of the village. In his hand was a small, wooden crossbow. Did he intend to vanquish him? A young, fat mortal against the Count Dracula?

The first grin in three moons spread wickedly across the face the of vampire. The boy was indeed very stupid, to think to test him. And tonight he would be taught his lesson. His last lesson.


	4. Decisions

We're having a bit of a change in POV for this chappie. I'm warning you all now, that I'm probably going to be doing that quite often. I'll try to keep each character's voice a tad different so it's easier to tell them apart, so never fear, my pretties!

* * *

Feeling the wind rush through my hair and over my wings had always been a pleasure. But this day I was particularly enjoying it. Perhaps it was that the wind was deliciously frigid and crisp. Or perhaps it was because I felt warm and full from a young woman's blood. Or, perhaps it was because I was no longer dead. 

When I had awoken, not one week ago, I lay on a ledge of my master's castle. The very ledge on which the Valerious brat had stabbed me through. At first, I thought it had been a dream. A vivid dream. One so much so that I would have sworn on my own life that it had been real.

Until I saw the moonshine glinting on the silver. For it lay beside my hand, the loathsome thing that had been driven through me. Needless to say, I leapt away, glaring, searching for the princess. But she was gone. I sensed no human, no heartbeat, within range.

It was then that I found Verona. Or rather, she found me. "Aleera!" she had cried, flying towards me in a very gawkish way. I had felt confusion and weakness and delight all at the same time. Stumbling to my feet I had proceeded off the ledge, meeting her in the air, laughing, crying, touching her face with my fingers, verifying that she was as real as I.

She was.

We had returned to our Master, and he had taken us in his arms, holding us to him. He had been shivering, weakened. Our master was never weak. What had happened, we asked him, pulling him to his very favorite chair, urging him to sit and tell us of what we did not know. And he had. He did not know why we were alive, said he did not want to speak of the matter then, and Verona and I had comforted him. But where was Marishka? She had also been slaughtered by the horrible Van Helsing man, yet she did not live now like the rest of us? Indeed, we were all perplexed and dismayed. We wept for her, and our master had in turn soothed us.

He said we must make good of this opportunity. Of this miracle. Of being granted life after death.

We promised we would.

Verona flew up behind me, having finished her own feeding.

"We must return now, Aleera!" she said to me "We mustn't leave our poor master all alone!"

I agreed, and together we glided over the patches of forest and snow. Until my eyes took notice of something down upon the ground. I paused in the air, flapping my wings, and inspecting it with wonder. It appeared to be a camp, a human one of course. I cocked my head. So far up in the mountains?

It was strange, indeed.

Verona called to me. I turned and nearly starting again towards our home, but again hesitated. I was so very curious, for what silly mortal would try to scale the mountain on which lived our master? I wanted to see the fool.

"Verona! Go ahead to our master!" I cried, turning my wings back towards the small camp "I shall return soon!"

She seemed puzzled, but heeded my request and flew on. As for myself, I sped down to the earth, hovering just above the rickety shelter. I searched the abandoned snow, feeling disappointment at the absence of occupants. Then I saw the footsteps. A single pair, heading back to the foot of the mountains. I grinned wickedly, and followed them. This could turn out to be very amusing.

They went on for quite some miles. At times, I had great trouble judging which way to go; there had been a nasty blizzard the previous day, and the flurries had filled in several of the small markers.

I had just been wondering if I'd gone the wrong way, when a dark figure on the ground caught my eye, about fifty yards ahead. I giggled and soared lazily to it. Taking a rest, perhaps? What a foolish human.

My surprise was enormous when I fluttered over the creature, only to discover that it did not look like a man, as I'd been expecting, or even a male at all. I landed upon the snow, and flipped the body over. I had been right.

It was a girl.

I stared down at her. She appeared to be dead. Her body had been cold when I touched her; the skin was white and mouth blue. The child had probably frozen to death in the storm.

I pouted my lip. Poor little thing. I blinked. Then caught a sound. One thump, a second thump. Another one. Another one. Another one. A heartbeat? I pressed a finger to her throat, and yes, there was a pulse. I licked my lips. A lovely pulsing a blood, flowing through her veins. I frowned. But I was not hungry. The young girl from earlier had quite filled me up.

So now, I had to decide what to do with this girl. I could leave her here, of course, to die, or perhaps bring her back to a village. The idea of returning her to humans did not, however, appeal to me. Nor did abandoning her. As I silently observed her, I felt a very strange sensation.

For I wanted nothing more than to take her back with me.

The very notion was, indeed, preposterous. A human living with vampires? And with the great Count Dracula none the less! But even as I thought of the absurdity of the concept, I found a wistful kind of pang echoing through me.

All of my children were dead. Killed off, before they had lived an entire night. There was no chance of bringing them back to life, or of any future young being revived. And here before, was a child, still young in comparison to others of her kind, parentless, friendless, alone in the snow.

All alone.

I glanced around quickly. There was no one, nothing, except cold, barren landscape. My eyes again flickered onto the frozen creature before me, and I smiled. It was settled. I would bring her back with me. She could live at the castle as my daughter, and I would raise her, teach her, provide for her.

With a great leap, I transformed into my winged form, and gingerly picked my new child up and flew the two of us back home. I giggled softly, and grinned down at my passenger. She was nothing extraordinary, but she was a pretty thing in her own way. Indeed I would have a great deal of fun fostering this girl.


	5. Mothers of the Motherless

First things first, thank all of you for the lovely and encouraging reviews! They always help keep me going! Secondly, I'd like to try to explain something about the last chapter.

When I came up of the idea of Aleera finding a girl and taking her back as her own child, it never occurred to me, as some of you have seen it as, that she'd be doing it for the child's sake. If I hadn't already started the chapter in first person, I would have liked to have changed it, just to help show that point. To me, her 'saving' the girl was, in essence, a more selfish action than anything else. She didn't have children. Here was someone else's child, and that someone else wasn't there to stop her, so she took it. Like a little kid, really.

Does that make any sense?

I know it's still a little bit of an OOC trait, but... oh well. I have whole story ahead to make up for it.

Love you all to pieces,

Pax

* * *

It had been many a year since the little room had been used. None of the current inhabitants had done more than to peek in, curious, and after discovering nothing extraordinary, closed the door and move on. 

However, in Aleera's excited and already planning mind, it would do perfectly. She landed on the small terrace, reverting back into her more presentable form, and carried her delicate, frozen companion through the glass doors. It was cold in the stone chamber; a fire would need to be lit in the hearth. But for now Aleera merely carried the girl to the dusty bed and placed under the covers.

The last time she had started a fire had been a long time ago. Arranging the logs was easy enough. It was the part with the match that was difficult, for every time a flame would flare up on the end of the stick, Aleera would start and release it, only to drop onto the stone and extinguish.

Aleera heard the fluttering of wings. With a sharp glance at the open balcony entry, she saw a figure materialize on the railing and make for the door. Just before they entered the room, Aleera flitted in front of her prize, hiding her from view.

The two brides regarding each other for a moment; Verona with mild curiosity and inquiry, Aleera with considerably less placate thoughts.

"What is that?"

The question that she knew would come, but cursed. Tossing her hair, Aleera adopted a small, coy smile.

"Why don't you come see for yourself?"

Verona did not move for a moment, then stepped around her younger confidant. Silence. Then a harsh look.

"A human?"

A single finger twisted around a red curl.

"Yes."

The reaction was instantaneous. Verona turned on her, fangs growing, eyes gleaming.

"You dare bring a human into the home of our Master!" Have you lost your mind, Aleera?"

Aleera replied with the same physical distortions, hissing.

"She is to be my child! She was abandoned by her own kind, and now I will raise her!"

"Raise her! She is not a newborn! She is not even an infant!" she gesture to the sleeping mortal,

"In only a matter of years she will be full grown!"

"Then I will mother her until that day!"

Verona faltered slightly at hearing 'mother'. She composed herself, calmness again in her voice.

"Aleera, you must see the madness of the situation? How could this possibly come to be?"

Aleera delayed responding while allowing herself time to quell her rage. Finally, with chest heaving with emotion, she countered.

"Verona. You and I had to watch our beautiful children perish! Who better then yourself would understand my pain?"

Taking a step towards the taller bride, she reached out and brushed her fingers across the pale cheek.

"You felt it, did you not? For we are not the same as the master. We must still feel that dreadful pain."

Verona looked from Aleera, to the girl, and back to Aleera.

"I did." she whispered "I did feel it."

"She could be your daughter, as well! The two of us together could rear her. Make her better than all the other humans. And if does not live up to what we want her to be" Aleera lowered her eyelashes, grinning"She could be a treat for us both."

Verona raised a sleek eyebrow, again surveying the child with eyes less doubtful than before.

"The Master..."

"He will let us keep her." Aleera murmured"he knows we long for a family. The Master will let her stay."

Verona did not say anything for many minutes. Aleera waited, growing impatient, but resolving not to speak her thoughts should she dampen her chances of winning Verona over. At last, Verona spoke.

"If the Master allows it, I will have no quarrel with the child staying."

Aleera smiled at her, and then the two looked down upon the girl. She still slept, her face expressionless and pale, framed by dark, ginger brown hair that tumbled over her shoulders.

"Where did you find her?"

The suddenness of Verona's question startled Aleera.

"In the snow fields."

"Aleera! Have you forgotten that humans can not live in such cold conditions? She needs to be warmed or she will die."

"I know!" Aleera hissed back, pointing to the hill of matches "I _tried_ to start a fire."

Verona straightened herself, and proceeded to the fireplace.

"Make sure the quilt is tucked in around her, and close the doors! They're letting in a wind."

Aleera huffed, for she did not like being told what to do, but obeyed her elder. When the doors where tightly shut, she glided back to the bed side and pulled the blanket up under the girl's chin. The crackling of a fire filled the room; Verona had no doubt succeeded. Aleera ran her fingers lightly over the sallow face, touching each cheek, up across the child's forehead, and down her delicately pointed nose.

"What shall we name her, do you think?"

Verona returned to her side, eyes pensive.

"Did it not occur to you that she might already have a name?"

Aleera made a face, displeased.

"Then when she awakes, I shall ask her name, and if I do not like it, we shall give her a new name."

The two brides nodded in agreement. While they appeared calm, the hearts of both were near bursting with happiness. At last, a child. After all the long years of hope and failure. The feeling was dampened slightly by the mere fact that it was a human child they were to raise, but as they watched her peacefully sleep, the girl became more and more beautiful to both Aleera and Verona. Suddenly, the familiar clip of heeled boots echoed through the hall, just outside the door. The two vampires froze.

Their Master was home.


	6. A Touch of Mortality

Hello all! I felt the need to thank all the lovely reviewers, and to thank my inspiration for this chapter! You see, I was in a state of perpetual writer's block after the last upload, and didn't know what to do! As the days past, I was helpless...

Then my inspiration came in a song.

Oddly enough, the song does not actually play into this chapter... I just inspired me! Or maybe, now that I reflect, it was more so the movie it was in... And so, to conclude this funny little AN, I would like to make a shameless plug for that wonderful film:

GO RENT HANNIBAL! (the song is the opera IN the movie, called Vide Cor Muem... absolutely beautiful. If you are into ripping off the music industry, like myself, download it!)

Lots of Love,

Pax

* * *

I felt something was amiss from the moment Verona returned alone from hunting. It was not the first time something of that nature had occurred, but this felt different. And when near an hour had past, and Aleera was not yet returned, the feeling had only deepened into heavy suspicion. 

I sent Verona out to find her, and then took leave myself to feed. I had not been doing so regularly for some time, and I often found a weakness of a most irritating nature floating over my body and through my skull. However, when I caught my prey, and lowered my teeth into its neck, the rush of warm life pouring forth into my mouth came as a powerful refreshment. Leaving the body, I shifted forms, and made for my castle.

This time, when I landed in the entrance hall, I knew something was wrong. But no, wrong was not the correct word for the feeling I had. It was not threatening, moreover distinctly peculiar. And I felt it had to do with Aleera's absence in the early evening.

It took me a moment to ascertain where my brides were in the palace, and when I sensed them a fresh wave of curiosity swept over me. On the third floor? I proceeded up the stairwell, bewildered. What could they be doing up there? Uponreaching the appropriate landing I heard them talking, in hushed tones, five doors down the corridor, in a small room, no doubt once used as a sleeping chamber. And so to them I went, my boots clicking lightly on the stone floor. 

I heard their voices stop and their movements still as I reached for the door knob. Surely, they knew it was only myself? Why did they fear my entering?

A bright flame was crackling merrily in the fireplace; both Verona and Aleera stood at the side of the musty bed. And in it lay a human girl. I knew at once from the smell, she was mortal, and upon further examination, I also came to notice that she was not so much a girl as a young woman. Yet my initial reaction was unquenched.

There was a human in Castle Dracula.

My eyes flickered to the pair at her bedside. They stood, watching me anxiously. Taking a cooling breath, I strode over to the end of the bed, and fixed my sight on the slumbering mortal.

Silence ensued for many minutes. At last, Verona spoke.

"My lord," she whispered, a tremble in her voice. But she seemed unable to finish her statement. Maintaining my dangerous calm, I softly said,

"Could one of you kindly explain this to me?"

Aleera glided to my side, clinging to me.

"It was I who brought her here, master," she cooed, laying her curly head upon my shoulder, "And we beg of you to let us keep her."

It took me a great deal of practiced effort to first process this, and then to master my fury. Keep her? Verona, no doubt once seeing the rage in my eyes, swept to my other side, placing a slender hand on the front of my lapels.

"We only ask this of you, my love, because we long for a child so very much!"

I felt another stab of anger, but also a pang of regret. I had failed my brides in bringing our true children to life. Did they really crave a family so badly that they were willingly to adopt a human child as their own? It seemed almost ridiculously desperate.

Yet, I found I understood their plea.

I rose my eyes from the girl, to Verona. She was my eldest. She had been the first to beseech of me to have offspring. And when our attempts had failed, I had allowed her to mother my younger brides. Allowed her to teach Marishka and Aleera how to catch and kill their prey. Of course, they too had wanted children. I glanced over at Aleera. My youngest; my fiery haired, passionate bride. At hearing Verona's request, she had but nearly dropped to her knees before me, begging for the same.

And I had done nothing but disappoint them in all my attempts. I too wanted descendants. Perhaps, not with the same ardor, for that was quite impossible, I thought bitterly, for one so hollow as myself. But I still felt their pain.

Aleera gazed up at me with her doe brown eyes piteous.

"Please, master." she murmured, pouting.

Verona stroked my face, her eyes, also brown but much darker and deeper, pleading.

"It would make us so very happy, my love." she purred.

I sighed, feeling myself caving. After all, the tattered and hollow remains of my heart belonged to my brides.

"Very well. You may keep her."

It took the two several moments to comprehend my answer. However, when it came upon them, they were both ravenously happy.

"Oh! Oh, master!"

Verona whispered as Aleera shrieked with happy laughter. I smiled lightly and rose my gaze back to my new, permanent guest. Still, she slept.

"Verona! Verona, come!" It was Aleera who spoke, in an excited voice "We must go get things ready for when she awakes!"

Verona eyes glazed slightly, and turned again to myself, as if asking permission. I nodded, granting it, and watched my brides together fly out the window, seeking things for their child.

And so I was left in the room, alone, with the girl. I sighed heavily, and watched the slow, heavy rise and fall of her chest. The room was silent, allowing me to hear the soft pattering of her heart. In a strange way, it soothed me, the touch of mortality that accompanied each beat.

Perhaps, just perhaps, it would not be so outlandish to have this child in the castle after all...

* * *

So... what do you all think of my "Dracula Voice"? Does it suit him? Your opinions would be much loved and cherished! You all get to meet 'the girl' next chappie... is the suspense killing you?... 

Pax

P.S

Sorry it took so long for this update! Finals... you know how it is... but now it's Summer Holiday! Huzzah!


	7. The Awakening

Ok, ok, ok! I have an excuse! I was a counselor at an over night camp for nearly two weeks, and then I was sick, and now (oh yes, there's more!) I have about seventeen people living in my house, ten of which are small, clingy cousins who simply LOOOOVE their older cousin a.k.a. me... ugh... but because I just love my readers so much, I laid awake all last night thinking up this next chapter word for word.

There.

You happy?

On a different note...

Ah! I feel so bad about my writing skills! I keep having to explain stuff to you all! I'm sorry!

This time it's about Verona and Aleera keeping the girl a human rather than turning her into a vampire. To them, a human teenager, by means of physical (and sometime mental) prowess, is the same as a young vampiric child. She'll need to depend on them for food and water and shelter, much as an infant would. Else wise they might of turned her. It's all a psychological thing to them... and plus it's important to the rest of the did I say that out loud? ;D

Anyway, I'll try to do better in explaining myself... sorry for any confusion and for the friggin long wait.

Pax

* * *

I had been right in thinking the child needed rest. For the entirety of the next two days and nights, she slept without waking. Meanwhile, Aleera and Verona amused themselves by flying about the country side obtaining clothing, jewelry, and other fineries for their provisional babe. I watched them, hour upon hour, as they swooped in and out, cackling to each other joyously.

At some point, I began to ignore the fact that I was positive they both knew the castle had it's own supply of human necessities. Many years ago, when I had first taken Verona as a bride, I had showered her with gowns and precious jewels. After the first century or so, she had given up her taste for human regalia, and so the lot had been past to Marishka in her turn, and finally to Aleera. Now all of it lay in various places about the castle, most likely collecting dust in it's lack of use.

Sighing heavily, I watching my brides again leap off the tallest balcony. At least they were happy. I, myself, had done very little since the arrival of my newest permanent occupant. The night previous to this one, I had fed, and upon my return, there had come a pounding on the front door.

Curiosity struck me, as I gazed down at the mighty wooden barrier. Who on the Earth would be knocking upon my doors? I had strode back, and thrown open one of them, only to come face and face with a large group of Dwergi. The front most creature nodded curtly in pseudoformal greeting and marched past me, followed by his growling companions. I moved aside, one eyebrow cocked in mild interest, as the whole of them scuffled down the corridor and into the decrepit laboratory.

Apparently, news of my return had spread to their part of Europe.

Tonight I could hear them, still in the laboratory, barking orders at one another. One could only assume they were cleaning up the heaps of ruined machinery. I had taken to walking about the castle, visiting floors and rooms I had long forgotten, in an attempt to soothe my tender mind after long hours of self-afflicted abuse.

I stood now on the second level; silence prevailed, shattered occasionally by the sound of a large piece of metal being dropped or the like. This floor presumably had been where the Lord and his family were to have roomed. I thought briefly of my young guest, just above me. If I listened closely, I could hear her heartbeat. Over the past night or so, it had become stronger as she herself became healthier once again. I now noted, with an peculiar sense of satisfaction, that it had strengthened to an average sounding patter.

My eyes rose to the dark ceiling, and for a moment, I paused. Then, my feet carried me to the wall nearest to myself, and I proceeded to scale it. Upon reaching the cold stone, I merely focused, and my body past straight through. A rather handy trick, in many such cases.

The door to the child's room stood just to my left. I opened it, and silently entered. It was lit by the warm, orange glow of the fireplace. Verona and Aleera had done well in keeping a flame burning through all hours of the frosty nights. The light cast by the fire revealed quite a different room then last I'd seen.

Much of the dust had been cleaned, making everything appear lived in, and cheery. Candles had been scattered about, unlit, but ready with matches waiting by their sides. One door of the mahogany bureau stood open, proudly flaunting a fine array of elegant gowns and slippers. A table had been recreated into a vanity, holding a large box of jeweled trinkets, a hair brush, and what appeared to be face powder. Not that she would need it, I thought dryly, glancing at the slumbering mortal, whose delicate flesh was nearly as pale as my own.

Curious, I made my way over to the desk, allowing the fourth object upon it to catch my attention. I hissed softly, recoiling.

A mirror.

I glared, my eyes narrow as I took in the glass with disdain. I had missed it in my first perusal; most likely because nothing had moved in it's shimmering, taunting depths. I scoffed, taking a step closer. I was, of course, the only fully functioning entity in the room, and it would naturally not show myself.

But, alack, I spoke too soon.

A soft rustle caught my attention. Turning my head, I peered at the young human, now stirring. For a brief moment I knew not what to do. Should I leave the room? Or perhaps locate my brides and inform them of the progression? Time would not permit me to accomplish either of these. So, I simply seated myself at the table, and waited.

A moment of silence past, and then one, trembling hand rose to her face. I watched quietly as the delicate eyelids twitched, and finally her shoulder muscles tensed as she pushed off the mattress and sat up.

The waves of dark hair tangled on her fingers that rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She winced ever so slightly after managing to sit, no doubt from the lack of movement over the days previous, then opened her eyes. They took in her surroundings, and a frown tinged her countenance. It was about at this time that I was noticed.

She turned her head and for a fleeting moment, I heard her heart skip. I smiled at her expression of utter mystification. Her eyes dropped to her lap, then rose again to myself.

"Am I?..."

I understood her thoughts.

"Dead?" I replied in a low voice, "No, not this time, my child."

She released a breath, and again cast her dark eyes about the room, taking it in. I stood, and stepped away from the chair. 

"Forgive me. I've forgotten my manners. Please, allow me to introduce myself." I bowed elegantly, my gaze catching hers, "I am Count Vladislaus Dragulia," her eyes, ensnared by my own, widened "You find yourself now in my castle."

Her breathing quickened, as did her heartbeat.

"You..." the word came out weakly, and so she ventured again "You...are alive?"

The question went unanswered.

For at that precise moment, my brides fluttered onto the stone balcony outside. It took only a brief time for Aleera's avid scrutiny to fall upon the newly awaked child. She gasped shrilly, and clutched Verona's arm.

"Verona!" she breathed, fixated on my companion. But Verona had already seen. The two flew into the room, and bore down on her. I stood behind them, watching with mild amusement. Verona rose her chin, surveying the thin face even as Aleera stroked her tousled head.

"Oh, Verona! Feel her hair! It is so soft!"

"She has such lovely eyes!"

"Are you hungry? Shall we get you something to eat?"

"Is the fire keeping you warm enough?"

"Now, now, my darlings," I said, stepping forward and placing a hand on each of my brides, "distance yourselves. You mustn't smother her."

Immediately, they pulled back, clinging to one another and shrieking with happy laughter. As for the girl, she still sat, her eyes wide and confused, hair perhaps more disarrayed and her person more disheveled than before. Suddenly, Aleera straightened.

"What is your name? Please, tell us."

One hand tucked back the knotted tresses gingerly as the dark orbs continued to assess.

"Adriana."

Aleera's eyes met Verona's as the two considered the name. For my own part, I thought the name satisfactorily and well fitted for her. And, from the smiles widened over my bride's faces, they thought similarly.

"It is a lovely name." Verona whispered, regaining much of her previous elegance and stature.

She glided down to sit beside Adriana and touched her cheek delicately.

"Tell us all there is too know about yourself."

The human seemed disoriented.

"There... is nothing much to tell, my Lady."

A sparkle began in Verona's dark eyes. I retreated back to my previous state of sitting at the desk.

"My darling," it was Verona, again, who spoke "You may call me Verona."

"And I am Aleera." The said individual piped, coming forward. Adriana's eyes flickered in my direction, a move so discreet, I only just caught it.

"And..." the voice was small, "are you all...?.."

Now it was my brides who appeared perplexed. I spoke.

"Are we all what, may I ask?"

She looked at me, with eyes penetrating and inquiring such as I'd ever seen on a mortal.

"Nosferatu."

A wide grin crossed my face. So perceptive. My brides has done well in their choice of foster child. I felt as her gaze feel on my fangs, and her heartbeat sped up. 

"Indeed, you are correct." I rose again, joining Verona and Aleera at her bedside, "And you may find yourself now in a very fortuitous position. You see" I made a gesture"My brides found you near death," I sensed Aleera's annoyance, "brought you back to my castle, and have decided they would like to rear you as their child," I excluded as to why they had no children of their own.

"I myself make the assurance that you will be well cared for and treated with the utmost decency. However," I held up one finger in a chiding fashion, "should you try to escape, I can not promise the same."

"But she won't try to leave us" Aleera cried indignantly, cradling Adriana to her chest in a possessive nature. She smiled down at the child who gazed back up at her with curious eyes, "She is our daughter now. And she is a good girl. Besides!" another look of resentment, "Why would she want to leave?" 

"A valid point, my love." I replied, "I was only setting the line down for all to observe. We cannot have people running about speaking of the location of Castle Dracula, can we now?"

"I promise to behave." I glanced down at the young child, as she spoke. She appeared quite serious. "I owe my life to you. I- I promise I will stay."

My brides went wild with delight, cooing and fussing over Adriana like she was an newborn. I turned and proceeded to the balcony, leaving the three to become acquainted. Upon my last view of the room, I noticed the small, shy smile that existed on Adriana's face, and felt a swell of satisfaction. At last I had delivered my bride's a child. But the time for thinking of that was over now. I ascended onto the handrail and leapt off into the icy night air.

All this talk of mortals had made me rather hungry.

* * *

BWA! 


	8. Of the Wicca

Hello folks! It's time for My Shameless Plug of the Month©! It's another lovely film for all you adventurers to go and view! What is it, you ask? Why, only the brilliant 1998 version of 'The Mask of Zorro', featuring Antonio Banderas drool, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and Anthony Hopkins who I'm in love with!

Splendid movie! Great soundtrack!

This has been My Shameless Plug of the Month©! Now onto the story!

Pax

* * *

Shadows were not uncommon in Castle Dracula. Hovering, lurking, looming along ever corridor, in every nook and cranny. But the shadows in the Count's private library on this night danced.

A magnificent fire was bellowing in the hearth, slashing the gloom with flickering rays of brilliance. Light and dark, flame and shadow; intertwined in a waltz for supremacy.All the while, the Count himself sat, as still and soundless as a marble carving, gazing into the blaze. He had not moved from his perch in all his waking hours of the past week. The only exception was to slink noiselessly back to his coffin of ice upon the first rays of dawn each day.

Tonight, he could hear his brides and their newest companion just below him. That had been his only solace these long nights; hearing the young one answering their questions in her soft obliging voice.

The Count rejoiced silently upon finally delivered such a gift to his brides. But his brain was still hard at work attempting to decipher the reason and means of their resurrection. Though Verona and Aleera had been able to wave it away in no time as a miracle, that was no answer for him. He needed a reasonable justification. Yet, there was none to be found.

Hours past as he sat, alone.

He heard the swish of wings outside. His brides must be leaving to feed. Closing his eyes, the Count sighed and leaned his head against the plush backing of his chair. He had become so deeply buried in his thoughts, that he almost missed the light footsteps entering the room.

Almost.

His eyes flashed open again as he froze, on guard; only to relax once again. He knew that smell. And, sure enough, Adriana's dark head soon peeped around the chair, inspecting it's occupant with mild surprise and trepidation.

"Forgive me," she said quietly, stepping back, "I didn't think anyone was here."

Dracula allowed his eyes to graze over the human. She was well dressed in a simple, empire-style gown of dark blue satin; she wore none of the jewelry recently given to her, although she donned a thin silver chain around her throat, the ornament hidden in beneath the neckline of the dress. A smile crossed his face. The entire guise suited her very well, indeed.

"There is nothing to forgive, my dear." Dracula replied, reaching across to a small table and clutching the goblet that sat on top, "You have done nothing wrong."

He took a sip, allowing the rich, dark fluid to penetrate his senses and mind. He swallowed. Aged blood would never be as satisfying as fresh, but it quench his momentary thirst. Placing the cup back on it's table, he beckoned to Adriana.

"Come. Sit."

She obeyed, tucking the dainty skirts underneath her legs as she settled on the ground at his side. Dracula extended a slender hand placing it on the top of her soft head, tenderly stroking her hair.

"You find me quite subjected this evening, Adriana." he murmured, returning his gaze to the fire. He felt her warm hands come to rest on his knee, forming a cushion for her head which followed.

"What is wrong, my master?" came her quiet inquiry.

Dracula could not subdue the smile that formed on his lips. He found that he rather enjoyed the gentle curiosity in her voice, the warmth of her flesh, the trust she felt in his presence. And so, as his fingers continued combing through her dark hair, the Count recounted to her his current distress.

Silence prevailed as he concluded. Dracula looked down at the child; she had not moved, aside from the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. Her eyes stared rigidly forward. But above all else, the Count listened as her heart adopted a strange and irregular beat.

"Something troubles you, my child?"

Adriana straightened silently and shook her head, one hand sliding into her lap, the other catching the metal cord about her neck and fiddling with the charm. In a moment of mild surprise, he realized that it was not, as he had expected, a crucifix.

"You do not wear a cross," Dracula inquired quietly, studying the pale profile with newly awakened interest, "I was under the impression all of the local villagers did so-..." He stopped abruptly, watching as Adriana's fist closed around the trinket, knuckles whitening.

"I'd rather burn then wear a token of Christ." she whispered, her voice soft and cold. There was a beat of silence. Than, she turned her head and gazed up at him; the fire glinted in her eyes, casting depictions of flames in their vivid, grey depths. She looked away again, allowing slim curls to shadow her face.

"Many years ago, I lived in the town of Kolozsvar...with my Mama, my Papa, and my four brothers and sisters. We all lived in a cottage on the outskirts of the village, near the forest. It wasn't an easy living, but I was happier there, than I've been in all my life." An odd look past through her eyes. "I should have known it was too good to last." Dracula sat back, bringing a hand to his chin. The child fascinated him. She paused for a minute, then continued.

"In the winter of my seventh year, a plague developed in the town. Many were infected, and many more died. The people were frightened..." her gaze rose to the fireplace, eyes shimmering with an angry, flickering light"and when people are frightened, they become stupid. When something happens they can't explain, they become frightened and stupid and accuse those they do not understand."

Her fist opened, and she held up the ornament for him to see. It was a tiny, square-shaped charm of tarnished silver, engraved with markings that were familiar, but he could not place them. The small shape revolved slowly in her hand, and the opposing side caught the light. A circle was etched into this side; inside of the band was a five-pointed star. This design the Count knew.

The Pentacle. A symbol of Paganism.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, then she looked away once again.

"You and your family are Pagans" he inquired, leaning forward, enthralled"Of what branch, my I ask?"

"We were of the Wicca, master." came the hushed reply. _'We were...'_.

"The villagers blamed us for the sickness. They said we had placed a hex upon the town, that it was our doing. Papa heard them coming. He told Mama to hide, to take us away. She told my brothers to take me and run into the forest. We did." She paused again, clutching the necklace to her breast.

"None of the rest made it out of the house. The villagers... I don't know what they did. I only saw our home burning. It was snowing. I was very cold. One of my brothers gave me his jacket. But we didn't know the men were hunting us. They saw his white shirt in the dark... They shot him. His name was Petre" she added, a small smile crossing her face" There were only two of us now. Myself and my elder brother, Vilhelm..." a single tear trailed slowly down her cheek,

"The village men were gaining. We hadn't had time to put on warm clothes; we were frozen... at last we could run no farther. Vilhelm found an old, rotted tree. He told me to climb inside and hide. There-...there wasn't enough room for him, too. I asked where he was to hide... he only smiled..." another tear rolled down, followed by two more" _'Live long, Adriana'_, was what he said. _'Live long and join us someday.'_ The men came, and took him away. I never saw Vilhelm again."

The Count sat, silently, his lips tightened into thin line. Such betrayal... such human foolishness. His face relaxed into a cold smirk. It rather reminded him of his own downfall.

"I don't know how I lived through that winter. Or... now I think about it... how I made past my tenth year. I learned to hunt at some point, and to venge for myself. But never, not even for a minute, have I forgiven those Christians. I hate them. All of them."

Another pause.

"One night, about two months ago, I stopped in an inn for food. As I sat, I heard the villagers talking. They were afraid. Afraid of a monster who lived off human blood. A demon from Hell-sent. I had been happy to hear them distressed, until a man ran in. He said that the monster had been defeated. That a warrior from Rome had come and destroyed it." The Count's eyes flashed from the fireplace to the child sitting upon the floor. A warrior from Rome? Her story was sounding notably familiar.

"I was angry. I wanted them all to live in terror. So I found out what I could about this creature, and about his kind. And, low and behold, I found a loophole to the Christians' happiness. I set off from the village that same night. It was very cold. A storm was coming, but I didn't care. I found what was left of the demon and gave him what he needed for life. For rebirth."

Adriana lifted her dark head and caught the gaze of the Count, who was watching her with fierce intensity. A single arm rose; it's partner followed suit, and jerked the sleeve down. Dracula's nails dug into the arm of his chair. Along the pale wrist was a scar, still fresh, from a recent cut.

"I gave my life blood, willingly, to his ashes before the sun rose on the second day of his demise."

Her hands dropped again to her lap, and she was silent. His nostrils flared as he caught her scent. The same as the one that had lingered after his awakening. The very same. Dracula slowly rose to his feet and gazed fixedly at the young mortal with eyes alight with comprehension and flame. 

This child had been the means for his resurrection.

* * *

Oh my God. As I was writing this, I started crying. CRYING. Tears and sniffles and everything. I have no idea why it got to me like that... I've gone bonkers... 


	9. Repayment

Gaaaaah! I'M SORRRRRY! Thanks to all the dedicated readers who have waited so very patiently for this update! And it's not even a GOOD update! WHAT TORTUROUS INFLICTION I BESTOW UPON YOU! But the next chappie already thought out and ready to be written out, so do not fear, my pretties!

So here the chapter! _("You're off the edge of the map, mate. Here there be monsters!"_ snicker)

Pax

* * *

The fire crackled in the hearth as I stared at my brides' foster child. She sat, quite motionless, meeting my gaze. Her heartbeat was steady. My left hand extended slowly, grasping one pale wrist and pulling her to her feet. She complied as quietly as ever. 

"This is all the truth?" I asked sharply, tightened my hold on the joint. She nodded once. I surveyed her face thoroughly, but saw no lie in her expression. My eyes settled on her thin wrist, firmly locked within my hold. I could feel the pulse beneath my fingers.

Adriana seemed startled when I lifted her arm to my nose, inhaling deeply. Then, without warning, I sank my fangs into the soft flesh. Had I not been listening, I would not have heard the faint, almost inaudible, gasp of pain that issued from her mouth. In the brief moment that the blood flowed over my tongue, I caught images of people; two boys, both tall with dark hair and eyes; a man and a small boy child outside a tiny wood cabin; a woman cradling an infant who took in the interior of the house with wide, dark eyes; an icy snowfield, peppered with trees; a pair of feet, presumably her own, as she stumbled; snow, flurries too thick to see through, than blackness.

I pulled away. Adriana staggered; I placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her into my chair. She held her wrist limply, trembling. I licked my lips; the taste was familiar. A memory filled my mind. One of darkness, of an emptiness much different from my normal state. Floating, grieving, fading. Then the feeling of warmth. I became stronger rather than fading; the floating ended, and I was on my back in the dark, dankness of my laboratory.

The warmth I had felt. It had been blood; her blood.

Adriana shrank into the plush backing of the armchair when I stepped closer. I could smell a trace of fear about her. She was frightened, fearful of my reaction. The scent did naught but increase when I ensnared her fingers within my own once more. Her eyes rose, caught mine in anxious question.

Carefully, maintaining our preset visual contact, I bent my head and placed a soft kiss upon her pale knuckles. She had been holding her breath, but now I heard her let it out, relieved.

"There is no means by which I might repay you, my dear." I murmured, allowing my body to sink into a deep bow before her. When I again beheld her face, Adriana wore an expression of slight bewilderment and sadness. She opened her mouth to reply; her gaze dropped.

"Your existence is all the repayment I could need, Master."

Her heart adopted a strange, pattering beat that I at first did not understand. However, my consumption of her blood and the temporary link it thus produced, filled my inner vision with flickering images; the woman and child, the men and boys…

Pulling her to her feet, I placed a hand beneath Adriana's chin.

"You shall receive your vengeance." I told her gently, "In that you may trust."

A small, unsteady small crossed her fine countenance; I returned it. I had once thought that I may enjoy her presence in my home, and, indeed, I had been correct.

But something now began to tug in my abdomen. A feeling I had become quite accustomed to over the many centuries of life. Glancing out the window, I saw that the sensation was accurate.

The dawn would soon break.

With a hollow sigh, I stepped back from my young savior.

"I fear I must leave you now, Adriana." I said, touching my forehead wearily. Our connection, though thoroughly weakening, still lingered, for after my statement her eyes sought the pane as well. She nodded, the navy blue satin rustling as she moved aside respectfully, allowing myself to lead as we quit the room.

My brides were not yet returned from their hunt. After a slim moment a apprehension, I sensed them near, soon to arrive.

"Good night, Master."

I awoke from my thoughts in time to see the small mortal curtsey (what manners, for a peasant!) and make her way back to her room. The sun would raise in near forty five minutes; there was enough time.

"Allow me to escort you back, my dear."

She seemed surprised at my offer, but silently agreed, appearing shy. I smiled, and took position beside her. The walk was completed in comfortable quiet, and when we stood before her door, Adriana turned and curtseyed once again.

"You needn't bow," I said, grinning, "I am no great lord."

Her eyes seemed very bright as she eagerly came forward.

"Yes, but you are my Master! And I must show you esteem."

I stroked her hair lightly. Indeed, over the months, she had burrowed her way within my core, despite its emptiness, and I now felt a deal of affection for the creature.

"Sleep now, little one." I commanded, guiding her towards her chamber, "You ought to find what rest you can now. I feel certain my brides will desire your presence in the evening."

Adriana went to the entry, but before ingoing, she turned to me.

"I shall always sleep in the day now," she said, "For my life during the night."

I bowed as she shut the door. The pulling within me became suddenly more powerful; sunrise approached. Even as I stood, I heard my brides returning, hastening to there beds.

Sinking through the floor, I joined them.

* * *

Next chapter shall reintroduce Van Helsing (and Carl: Faithful Sidekick Extraordinaire (TM)!) 


	10. Van Helsing

Finally! An update! I'm on break, so hopefuly I'll have time to brood the fic over...

Much Love,

Pax

* * *

Silence is a virtue. I'd never really believed it, until recently. Until moments like this. Moments of splendid calm and quiet, in a life of disorderly clashing. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the smooth, wooden pew. Such was my existence: insanity with mere flickers of bliss.

Knowing Anna had been bliss. To encounter another in the world, another person as lonely and confused as me. I should have known God would never permit it. With a growl, I snatched the hat off my head and rubbed my temples. Thinking like this didn't do anyone any good. _I was still miserable. She was still dead_.

"Van Helsing? Van Helsing, where are you!"

So much for my peaceful solitude. The sanctuary doors were promptly flung open. In rushed the familiar form, still robed in a monk's garb. Leave it to Carl to cause a stir. I glanced over my shoulder and raised an eyebrow at the distraught man of worship. He looked more than his usual flustered, hair untidy and belt coming undone. He must have been sprinting about the entire Vatican.

I turned back in my seat.

"What is it Carl?"

He was at my side in a flash.

"Bad-" Wheezing. "Ba-HAD-" More wheezing. "Bad news from-" He leaned on the booth gasping. "From the east!"

My eyes rested returned to his breathless face. _The East?..._

"What kind of bad news?" I asked carefully, standing. Carl raised one trembling finger, pleading a minute of rest. I sighed grumpily, and donned my hat. An interval passed in which silence prevailed (the exception being Carl's heavy breathing), then he sighed and began.

"There's been some sort of uproar in the Carpathians. This morning a messenger-"

"The Carpathians?"

"Yes! This morning a messenger brought word-"

"What kind of uproar?"

"If you'd let me finish maybe you would know-" Immediately regretting his words, perhaps more so by the look I gave him, Carl continued meekly, "A messenger arrived saying that some kind of monster has been preying on the villagers."

I frowned deeply, scratching my forehead. Preying on the villagers.

"How is it preying?"

Carl didn't answer right away. I turned and gazed at the statue of Mary. She looked serene, smiling down at the Christ Child cradled in her arms. Candles glimmered at her feet.

"Carl."

He cleared his throat.

"It's draining them, Van Helsing." He replied quietly, "Draining their blood."

I closed my eyes. A vampire. Another vampire. My life had become a never-ending cycle of deadly tedium. _Was this worth forgiveness_?

"How many? Just the one."

As I moved to the door, there was a second hush. I stopped, awaiting an answer which was never spoken, but universally understood.

"How many, Carl?"

"At least three. That is what the messenger said."

I now understood his fear. Three vampires? In the Carpathians of all places. _Could it mean?..._

"You're sure it's three?"

He scuttled to my side.

"Positive."

Against my will, a thought began to arise in the back of my mind. But that was impossible. I'd killed him with my own hands. As for the brides, I'd seen at least two die. _But what of the third_? For the first time I'd realized my mistake. I didn't know if the last wench was dead. Could she have survived? Started her own coven?

"Van Helsing?"

Reaching up, and tipping my hat over my eyes.

"Get ready Carl." I said, pushing the doors open and proceeding out. "We're leaving in an hour."

The monk sputtered, tripping as he came after me.

"Me? Get ready?"

I didn't answer.

"B-but, Van Helsing! I don't want to go to Transylvania!"

I smirked, recognizing the statement.

"That's what you said last time, and remember all the fun we had?"

"Fun? Fun! How can you call nearly getting killed _FUN_?"

I looked back; he'd gone pale. I smiled.

"One hour."

And pointed him back to the seminary. He muttered darkly under his breath and followed my direction. When he was out of sight, the grin dropped from my face. I raised my head and looked to the rising sun. To the East. That was my destination. In a sense, I was returning.

Going back to where my heart had been kindled. Going back to where my heart had been broken. Going back to Hell.

* * *

Reviews! 


	11. Rumors from the West

Update, update, upppppdaaaaate! More to come, I promise! There won't be many more chappie-poos to this fic, because it's just barely half way through::Tear: My little baby's growing up!

Thank you all for the reviews! I love 'em!

Pax

* * *

The door slammed behind the pair of Dwergi as they retreated to the laboratory, yowling and snarling. I gazed thoughtfully into the fireplace. Their news had been constructive, but greatly disturbed my mind. They spoke of rumors. Rumors from the West. It seemed the Holy City had heard of my resurrection, and had sent forth a rider.

It was not the first time such word had reached my ears. _Word of a warrior from Rome_. I had laughed on the last instance; what damage could a human do to me? Count Vladislaus Dragulia, conqueror of the eastern lands? Holy Knight, indeed! But the encounter had not ended favorably. He had found my single weakness, and exploited it. I had died, along with my brides. There had been a point in time when no vampire lived on in the Carpathians.

Then she had come and salvaged my life. Adriana, my redeemer. The one who now thought of me as her master. I smiled, twirling my goblet. _My cherished human child_. In the years of my life, there had been many who had been my subjects; most of them loyal, some otherwise. But, somehow, I could not think of her so. As my servant. She was precious to my brides; their foster child. And she was as important to myself.

My attention returned to my cup. I rarely hunted anymore, finding the choice to drink blood from a bottle easier. It wasn't as if I felt weak, but simply that I was more tired than I had been in centuries. The taste of fresh blood would be sacrificed for a moment's rest.

But what of this report from the West? My eyes narrowed. Surely, it was not _he_ who came to my door? Gabriel Van Helsing. The wretch who fawned at the feet of God and kissed the hems of his robes. _The Lord's Mighty Servant_. I scowled, my hate for the man resurfacing. He would not return to the land where his beloved had perished. Yes, I knew of the death of Anna Valerious. The Gypsy Princess had been destroyed by Gabriel himself. I chuckled darkly at the irony. _If only I'd been more careful, I could have lived to witness it_. My smile fell slowly. No. He would not return. _He would not dare_.

A small box sat upon the table to my left. I surveyed it silently, my thoughts going to its soon-be-to recipient. Since my discovery of her part in my rebirth, the attention Adriana received had no doubt increased. Against some of my better judgment, I conveyed the story to my brides. Their reaction was little short of hysteria. Down upon the little human they had dove, smothering her with kisses and coos, squawking and shrilling over her ingenuity. I had sat along side, allowing it. For I believed it would do Adriana good to have someone, if not two, fuss over her. No mother had been hers for many years; she deserved to be pampered as if a queen.

I smiled, returning to my glass. When she awoke I would give her the little trinket. I rather liked the turn of her countenance when I offered her gifts. So surprised, yet delighted at the prospect. I had done so on several occasions since her untimely arrival. My eyebrows raised faintly as I realized it had been nearly three months. Sighing and placing my cup upon the little table, I rose and moved to the door. Time had gone by quickly.

Upon my exit from the room, I was immediately flanked by two familiar feminine forms.

"How are you feeling, Master?"

"Do you hunger?"

I stroked their hair, allowing their caresses.

"I am well, never fear." While they followed, I went to the window, gazing out at the clear, black sky, "Alas, news comes from the West."

"News from the West? Of what sort?" This was Verona who asked, for her interest in worldly matters was much more significant than that of my younger bride.

"A rider left the Holy City five days ago." This seemed to peak both their notice, "He rides to Transylvania."

There was a beat of silence, then Aleera spoke.

"Master," he voice was oddly faint, "It is not-… _He_ does not return?"

"I do not think as much, my love." Was my reply, "But I cannot be certain until I have seen the man himself."

This was where my plan became complicated. I needed someone, or something, to guard the local villages. To watch for strangers, for newly arrived visitors, for anyone suspicious. And to report back to me, so that the subject might be eliminated quickly. I told my brides of my dilemma.

"Who shall you send? Shall we go?"

"No, indeed, my dears." I told them, "I need a scout, someone in disguise." I cursed myself that I had not entrusted any man into my circle recently. They would have proved useful.

"I will go, Master."

The little voice startled me. Aleera and Verona squealed happily and sought after the bearer of the statement.

"You ought to have called us when you awoke!"

"Are _you_ hungry?"

"You have no covering, you will catch a chill!"

"Come now and let us retrieve one for you!"

But Adriana seemed unaffected by the chatter. She stared me straight in the eyes, determined.

"I will go to the village, Master, and watch for the rider."

My brides froze.

"No! You must not! It is far too dangerous!"

"Tell her she must not, Master!"

I met the human's gaze pensively. She would be the perfect candidate for such a job: a young village girl, visiting the inn, perhaps?

"Master!"

But this was Adriana. Our little treasure. Not an object to be toyed with.

"It will be dangerous." I said softly, stepping forward, "Should anyone discover you, I cannot guarantee your safety."

At this my brides went wild, clinging to their daughter.

"I do not care." Was the reply, "This shall be my revenge. I will not be injured."

I understood her view, now. This would serve as sweet retribution to the one whom the Christians had near destroyed. To stop their Holy Warrior. _I had promised her vengeance_.

"The choice is yours."

Both brides began to wail; Adriana snuggled against them.

"I will not let harm come to myself. I will return."

They sniffled, and both sought to clutch her against themselves at once, resulting in the girl letting out a small squeak of pain. Excusing myself, I left the room and moved to the front doors. If I were to let my human child do such a treacherous deed, I would first create another who would watch over her. From a distance, of course. For the breed of creature I went now to collect would not do well around a village of peasants. I smirked. _No, it would not do well **at all**._

It was cold out, although the winter was passing slowly. I would still have to see about Adriana securing a warm cloak. The impact she had made upon my life was gradually washing over myself. First a burden. Then a daughter. Now a spy.

* * *

Oh! Stealthy Spy! 

R-E-V-I-E-W-S.


	12. Wolf Venom

Here we are. Finally, another update! The story's getting a little more complex now... Hope you enjoy!

Oh, and by the way, I'm going on vacation on the 14th (the day after my birthday...reviews are lovely gifts...) and won't be back until August, so there will be no updates for a bitsy... I've actually just returned from working at a 10 day away camp (hoorah for camp counselors!), which explains why this is so very late...

Anyway, have fun!

Pax

* * *

Things had happened so quickly. It had been my turn to have the night watch on the flock. The cold was severe, being late winter, the darkness pitch. It must have been past midnight. The witching hour. I was no more superstitious than any person. I was God-fearing, naturally, but the beings of ancient lore did not really affect my life. Perhaps the Good Lord sought to teach me differently; that is to which I want to attribute my trials.

I was lifted from my seat, into the air, by a pair of steely talons. _Satan has come for me!_ I had thought. In reality, that had not been far from the truth. Some time during the flight I must of lost consciousness, for when I awoke my body was strapped to a slab. Something loomed in the corner. A man, hidden in darkness.

"Who are you?" I demanded, struggling against my restrains. He bristled, straightening and moving from the nook.

"I am the lord of this land."

I stopped wriggling. Never before had I seen the head of our nation. Could this truly be him? He appeared regal enough, or at least that which I could see of him.

"Tell me," he coming forward; his face was veiled in perpetual shadow, "What is your name?"

"My Christian name, sir?"

His dark eyes flashed.

"Yes."

The room seemed to darken. I felt a twinge of fear.

"Cézar."

"I see." A smile touched his face. "Then _Cézar_, as of this night, you shall be under my employment."

I sputtered, confused.

"Your employment?" I stammered, beginning to strain against the straps once again, "Please, my lord, I cannot accept! I must return home to my flock---"

Suddenly, his face was directly in front of my own.

"I'm afraid you have no choice in the matter."

From behind his back, the man drew a syringe, filled with liquid. My eyes became wide, my twisting strengthened. The needle was placed beneath my nose.

"Do you know what this is, Cézar?" The question was asked in a soft, almost gentle, tone. He did not wait for an answer. "It is werewolf venom. You see the color?" It was dark red, "How deep it is? It is quite genuine. The essence of the beast in its purest form."

He pushed up the sleeve of my jacket. I screamed, but his hand clapped over my mouth; the strength was enormous.

"Now, this may sting a bit…"

I felt the needle plunge into my flesh; my arm began to burn, throb with pain. I tried to bite his fingers, but they squeezed my face, crushing. The poison was spreading; I could feel it tearing at my insides, devouring my life. _I am going to die_. It was sheer anguish. A light appeared before my eyes. ._My life is over._

Everything swiftly stopped. The torture faded, the radiance died away. My body was covered with cold sweat. I blinked; my vision seemed oddly keen. Something moved; I turned my head, sniffing instinctively. _Someone was approaching_. The man stood nearby, smiling grimly.

"You shall notice some changes, my friend." He said. "Understand, that this is a great and powerful gift I have given you. The price of it shall be your loyalty."

I snarled. _What provoked me to behave in such an animalistic manner?_

"And if I refuse?"

The small smile returned.

"Then I shall kill you."

We both sensed the moving creature now, coming down the corridor. He ignored it.

"Your occupation is a very important one, and will begin in three days time. Should you fail, you will not live to explain your error."

"Why in three days?"

Never before had I felt so alert, so vigilant and aware of my surroundings. I smelt and saw all, and heard everything. Whoever it was outside had reached the door.

"It will be your first full moon. On that night, you will achieve your true form."

A small, sweet voice cut through the gloom like a blade.

"Master?"

It was a girl's voice. Such a gentle sound in hellish place. The man turned.

"Come in, my dear. Come and see what I have for you."

Another shooting pain blasted through my body. I growled and arched, unaware of the motion beside me. It past, eventually, my muscles contracting and convulsing. A howl broke loose from my throat; deep and rumbling, an animal sound. I snarled and whipped my head to the side. A person stood there. Not the man, but another.

A young woman. Delicate and slender. Her skin was pure and white; _It would be easy to rip_.

"Is he hurt, Master?"

It had been hers whose voice I heard. The resonance of the sound soothed my ears, dulled the pain.

"He is recovering, my dear." The man moved into view and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. He was much taller than she, though equally, if not more, pale.

"His name is Cézar." The long fingers moved to stroke her dark hair. "He will be your guardian."

She gazed down at me; her eyes were large and bright. Gently, she touched my cheek with soft fingers. _Was she an angel?_

"Shall you not help him, Master? He looks ill."

From the angle at which he stood, only I could see the cruel smile he sent me.

"You are very kind, but I fear there is nothing more to be done for him right now."

She was silent for a time.

"May I stay with him?" He frowned, "Just until he is well?"

His look towards me became increasingly unpleasant.

"If you wish. Mind, you mustn't feel obligated. He is of no consequence."

She did stay, though. Long after her master left. She drew a chair and sat quietly at my side. When another spasm came on, she left and returned with a basin of water. Through the agony, I felt the gentle touch of her slim hands, daubing my face with a damp cloth.

I knew what I was becoming. A creature of darkness. One who fed on the flesh of others; I might destroy those I had known and cherished. And in their last moments on earth, before I tore them to bloody shreds, they would think me a monster, and never suspect me to be one they once loved. I was his slave. Bound to this mysterious and terrible man for all time. The Devil's Serf. I let out another howl, feeling my teeth elongate into fangs, then return.

But in the darkness a voice sang quietly. _Her_. The girl. She too was his servant. Had she not called him Master? When the haze cleared from my eyes, I looked upon her face. _So lovely_. What was she to him, this girl? Surely one that called him Master could mean little. Yet he had said I was to be her guardian; she must have some significance, for me to be turned from human to beast for her safety.

As the hours past, she slowly drifted into sleep. Her breath was slow and calm, her face serene. She consoled my fatigued mind, guiding me to follow her into a light slumber. Soon after, the door opened, and the man returned. He held a thick blanket, in which he wrapped the girl, picking her noiselessly from her seat. Her dark head drooped against his shoulder, and he smiled faintly, ignoring my presence as he left the room.

I did not want him to take her away. When would again lay eyes upon her, my gentle angel? I hoped it would be soon; as still another wave of burning pain assaulted me, I closed my eyes and bore it silently. _For her_.

* * *

R-E-V-I-E-W-S. For those of you who can spell and read, do as it says! For those of who can't...well, I don't know exactly what you're doing on this site... 

Ahhh... Cézar's in luuuuurve. I couldn't help it! I love irony, and is there nothing more ironic than a werewolf falling in love with a vampire's daughter? Woaw. It just occured to me how much that sounds like the sub-plot of Underworld. Except Adriana isn't a vampire, but just has vampiric parents...

_I heart vampires! _

Pax


	13. Strangers

Updates for you! I know where I'm going with the story now (unlike with my Phantom of the Opera fic with which I am completely flummoxed...)! Horray!

Pax

* * *

The snow was startlingly white in the moonshine. Pure. Untouched. As clean and fresh as a serving dish, straight from the wash, yet unfilled with food. It felt almost painful to march my horse through it, creating deep hoof prints. Ruining the purity. Destroying the innocence.

"Van Helsing! Can we _please_ call it a night?"

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the comment.

"Van Helsing!"

My eyes sought a distraction.

"_VAN HELSING_!"

"Alright!" I bellowed, "There's a village just past these trees!" turning to look at him, I continued, "In the name of all that is Holy, why did you decide to be a monk if you can't deal with any amount of difficulty?"

Carl opened his mouth to retort, then paused, appearing thoughtful and perplexed. His mouth shut and he sat back in his saddle, brow furrowed in contemplation_. Ah well, at least he'll be quiet._

The town was a small one nestled in the hollow of a valley. Even I had to admit that the warm, orange light pouring from the windows looked appealing after many days of trudging over ice. There was one building, much larger than the others. From the front hung a sign "The Moldavian's Ewe". It was an inn, although a small one. Around the back was a rickety old stable. _Good enough_.

Carl sighed with relief when we entered the bustling inn, shuffling immediately to the drink counter. I brushed the snow off my shoulders, taking the moment to glance around at the inhabitants; _we were on a mission, after all_. A few people had turned to see who came through the door, but the rest had remained unfazed.

Something was thrust into my hand. I looked down; a tankard of amber liquid.

"Thanks." I said. Carl sniffed; apparently he was still exasperated with the long days march. I decided to let him stew, following him to the counter and sitting.

"And where do ye' gentlemen be coming from?" It was the portly bartender who spoke, rubbing a glass with a cloth.

"Rome." I answered, taking a sip of my drink. _Whiskey_.

He seemed surprised.

"All the way from the Holy City?" he said, astounded, "Are ye' priests?"

I jerked my head at Carl.

"He is."

"Actually I'm only a friar." He said quickly, as the bartender's eyes had drifted down to stare at the large tankard with raised eyebrows.

"Listen," I said, leaning forward. The older man bent in, curious, "We've an assignment. We were sent out to look for anything…" I sought for a good word, "_strange_, around these towns."

His eyes widened.

"Ye' mean ye've come to stop the attacks?" He asked in a hushed voice. I nodded. Glancing quickly around himself, he continued in a hurried whisper.

"Now see, there haven't been a whole lot of 'em, not as much as before the…the…" He choked on the word, "Well, the _You-Know-Whats_ were killed."

"You-Know-Whats?" Carl lifted his head from the drink, foam clinging to his beard. The bartender winced, lowering his voice to nothing more than a hiss.

"Vampires."

"Oh, those."

"But we digress," I said, giving Carl a look that clearly expressed my desire for him to keep his mouth shut and let me talk, "Please continue."

After quickly daubing his forehead with a handkerchief, he pressed on.

"They haven't been too bad, as I said. But… but the thing is…"

I nodded, urging him on.

"The thing is… they look like _wolf_ attacks. And not just any wolf," he raised his eyebrows for emphasis, "I mean _big wolves_."

"Like a werewolf?" asked Carl, once again oblivious to the subtle wording. The man cringed.

"Y-yes."

I frowned. _First vampires, now werewolves? _Something evil was formulating in these mountains. I tilted back the brim of my hat, meeting the bartender's eyes.

"Has anyone or anything suspicious come to this town?"

He looked perplexed.

"Not that I know of, sir."

"What about newcomers?"

"Newcomers? Since the attacks started?"

I nodded again.

"Well now… not that I can think of." His moustache bristled as the mouth it roofed suddenly opened. "Wait just a moment! There is one person." He jerked his head over my shoulder, "Just there."

I looked in the said direction, and saw a solitary figure sitting in the corner. A young woman, no more than twenty, pale and dark haired. She looked oddly serene and out of place in a bar full of bumbling peasants.

"Not that I think _she _has anything to do with the attacks." The bartender chuckled, "It's only that she's recently come to town that I mention her."

I glanced at Carl.

"May I ask why?"

"Why she's come?"

I shook my head.

"Why you think she hasn't anything to do with the wolf attacks?"

He laughed again, picking up a dirty glass to clean.

"She's a kindly, well-mannered lass. Works up the mountain at the old log farm. She's been coming down here in the evenings, when her work's done, you see. Sits right other there, quiet and thoughtful-like." His chest swelled and his smile widened, "Says my inn's got the best coffee she's ever had."

Flattery. _That was rarely genuine these days_. I was beginning to have some misgivings about this girl.

"Did she give you her name?"

The bartender opened his mouth to reply, then stopped. He looked bemused, then shrugged.

"Now that ye' mention it," his eyebrows furrowed, "I can't say I rightly know her name!" he chortled, "My age must be slowing me down a bit."

Carl looked at me timidly. I continued to frown. Several grisly murders in an isolated mountain town (A/N: This sounds like _The_ _Legend of Sleepy Hollow_!). A pale stranger who sits quietly in the dark corner of an inn each night. _How was it no one had thought to be suspicious? _I rose.

"Thank you for your information." I said curtly, nodding. The man smiled.

"Anything to help, good sir."

* * *

Another chapter is three quarters done, and should be up really soon! Much love to the faithful readers! Reviews and thoughts welcome! 


	14. Pursuit

Another chapter for my lovelies! Note to you: Theater season is starting up again this week, so updates may be scarce. I do promise, however, that this fic shall be first in my mind (because it's soon to reach the end! Bittersweet feelings...)

Pax

* * *

_("Thank you for your information." I said curtly, nodding. The man smiled._

_"Anything to help, good sir.")_

I pulled Carl to his feet.

"Let's go."

"What? We're leaving already?"

I shut my eyes, scowling.

"To _question_ the_ girl_, Carl."

"Oh."

She didn't seem to notice our approach. Even as we lingered near her table, she continued to stare forward, unseeingly; the until movement she made was the steady stirring of a spoon in her coffee. Her stillness was eerie. It was a rare thing for one so young to have such a calm manner. And so it startled me (if only a tiny bit) when she suddenly moved, as if awoken, turning to look at Carl and myself. I heard a spatter; apparently I was not the only one surprised, although I'd managed to keep a stable hold on my tankard.

"Do you mind if we sit?" I asked, gesturing towards the opposite end of her table.

It was part of my job to adjust and adapt to situations with ease. If a witness was being difficult, I (usually) remained patient. If a gargoyle was charging at me full speed, I kept calm and remembered what I had to do. I prided myself on my coolness.

Stubbornness is also a quality of mine. I know I'm obstinate; everyone around me knows it. It's a fact of nature. When the girl looked at me, met my eyes for the first time, I didn't want to admit to the fact that I felt uncomfortable. My stubbornness, you see. How could a skinny kid make unnerve me? I'd faced creatures with hundreds of eyes, and yet when fixed with a measly pair, my stomach seemed to disappear.

They were rather dark, harsh against white cheeks. The color was grey; uncommon if not unheard of in vampires. _That doesn't mean she's not a Were_. All I knew was that she was not an ordinary mountain villager. There was far too much intelligence, far too much depth within the pools of grey.

After a short pause, in which we were given a thorough once-over, she nodded once. Slowly. _She doesn't trust me_. I sat, Carl scooted in beside me. I didn't want to admit that I was relieved when she shifted her gaze to the friar, hand swirling the spoon idly. He squirmed.

"I can tell you're a bright kind of person, miss, so I'm going to be blunt." I said, managing to stop my voice from wavering when she looked at me again. She didn't look at all human in the dancing firelight, "We're here about the attacks. Looking for suspicious characters."

Something flickered across her face, so quickly that I almost missed it. _Almost._ Still, she said nothing. Her hand continued to stir the coffee.

"We know you're new around here," her eyebrows raised, ever so slightly, "and I think you know something about what's going on."

There was a short silence. Carl, for once, seemed to be in earnest when he said,

"We're from the Vatican. You can trust us."

To an inexperienced onlooker, such as the gullible holy man, this did not make much of an impact on the girl. I knew differently. _She was good_, I thought, _but not good enough_.

Her hand had stopped stirring.

Something about Carl's comment had struck her. I didn't know what had done it. I was going to find out. But it was my turn to make a mistake. My eyes had lingered too long on the cup of coffee. She's seen me looking, knew I saw. Her jaw tensed, eyes boring straight through me.

"You're the Warrior from Rome."

It was the first time she's spoken. Her voice was soft, almost gentle. Deadly. Our eyes met for the first time as adversaries. The moment was so incredibly tense you could have sliced it up and fried it. She sat up.

"If you'll excuse me," rising, she left a coin on the table top, beside her mug, "It's getting late."

"Wait a moment." I said, pushing Carl, who was slowly catching on.

She was half way across the inn, the door clear view.

"I said wait! Carl, _MOVE_!" I stumbled over him, moving briskly after her. Three men were talking at the drink counter. One of them was the plump bartender.

"Old long farm?" exclaimed one of his companions, slapping his knee and guffawing, "You great ninny! That place was shut down years ago! You're getting featherbrained with age, you are!"

I broke into a run. Snow was falling, still light and downy. It seemed unfitting for the moment. Thunder and lightning were supposed to crash overhead when an open chase was in motion, not dainty flurries. She was quickly sprinting towards the line of dark trees at the edge of the village. Was there time to get the horses? No. I did snatch up my trusty crossbow before I followed.

She was fast, but hindered by the snowfall. It was high, and height was not a virtue of hers. We were gaining. The air was colder now, biting my face. _Did it affect her_? I could only hope so.

It happened so fast I hardly had time to react. Carl and I had remained a clean twenty feet in her wake for a time; there must have been a dip in the ground beneath the spotless snow. She tripped, and fell.

We were on her in a second. I made a grab for her wrists. All the calmness she'd displayed at the inn were gone; she fought me like a wild thing, scratching my face twisting away. I didn't want to use force; I had to. Using my elbow, I brought it down sharply at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She froze, a puff of warm breath escaping her mouth in a gasp. Her struggle stopped. Carl appeared nervously behind me.

"Is she.. is she out cold?"

I wiped the trickle of blood from my lip.

"I think so."

My hands went to the pair of narrow shoulders; we'd have to restrain her before she woke. I'd barely touched her, when the sensation of breathlessness followed by a sharp pain hit me. I fell back. _Sneaky wench_.

Out cold my hat! She had been faking, waiting for me to move closer; both of her feet had connected firmly with my chest, kicking me over and allowing her time to dart away.

"Don't let her get away!"

I wheezed, staggering up. _Oh, she was going to get it_. Placing one hand on my throbbing sternum, I went after them. She looked over her shoulder, saw us perusing. I heard the cry, but never figured out what she said before a dark shadow descended from the tree tops and landed between us.

Hot foam dripped from its mouth, melting the snow below. I whipped the crossbow up, pointing it between the huge, yellow eyes. It snarled, lunging at me. The smell of musky fur and meat smothered me.

"Van Helsing!"

"Shoot it Carl!"

He fumbled about, looking for the weapon. But the Were leap off of me. It didn't bite, scratch, cause me any other kind of harm. Just got off. _What in the name of Heaven was going on_? But now it advanced on the girl. She was a conniving little witch, but I wasn't going to let it kill her.

"Stand back!" I shouted, groping for the crossbow. I froze. Stunned like I've never been stunned before. The monster, one of the largest Werewolves I'd ever seen, bent over, bidding her to climb on.

She did. She clambered upon the great beast's back, holding onto his pelt. The pair bounded away into the night.

The silence was heavy. Carl stood with his mouth hanging open. I merely stared. _Why_? It made no sense. Absolutely _no sense_. It wasn't in their nature. Weres were ferocious and untamed. They didn't help human girls.

* * *

My brides were restless. They always became so at this time of night, or at least since Adriana had begun calling in the villages. Generally, she stayed from mid afternoon until midnight, as she had done today.

I had awoken when the sun set to a great deal of fretting between them. They did not like waking without knowing she was alright. I, myself, could not say I didn't fear for my human ward, but I trusted her when she said she would not be harmed.

"Master!" Aleera wailed, clinging to my arm, "Why do you let her go?"

"What if something terrible should befall her?"

"How would we know?"

"My dears!" I said, loudly, placing a hand on both heads, "Adriana is perfectly capable of handling the situation."

This did not seem to console them, although they ceased their petulant yowling. The Witching Hour was soon to come; I sat in my private room just off the main hall, gazing into the fire. A loud cry rang outside. I shut my eyes, centering and calming my mind before I lost my temper.

"I have told you _time_ and _again_-"

But I did not finish. The thick stench of a wolf had penetrated the room. _What on Earth is **he** doing here? _I stood, anger deepening within me. _If the beast had left Adriana alone in the village, I would not hesitate to dispose of him…_

His hulking form was silhouetted against the moonshine. My brides keened more loudly than ever, failing their arms as he moved unto his forepaws, allowing his mistress to roll from his back.

"Master!" Came the sobs, "Master! Look at the state she's in!"

They rushed forward, fretting, submerging the human from my sight. She pushed them away. Adriana had never pushed anyone away. She stumbled in my direction; a livid bruise was forming on her neck. I pointed a finger.

"Who has done this to-"

She interrupted.

"He's here."

The hall became very quiet. The wolf was breathing noisily, and Adriana's teeth chattered with cold. _He's here_.

"The man who bruised you throat?" I asked carefully. She began to shake her head, than hesitated.

"The Warrior from Rome." Was all she said.


End file.
